


Your Body is a Temple, and I Worship

by apracticeinflummery



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 23:44:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4499397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apracticeinflummery/pseuds/apracticeinflummery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sex, basically.</p>
<p>
  <i>Adam could have been an angel sent to answer his prayers, or he could have been an angel sent to smite him. He was nearly inhuman in his beauty (his fierce and lovely face, his beautiful hands that knew exactly how to make him come undone).</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Body is a Temple, and I Worship

As soon as they got to Adam’s apartment, Adam began kissing him in that way that made Ronan lose his breath.

He loved these kinds of kisses the most. The hungry, gasping kisses. The ones that left him aching for more.

The ones that led to this: Adam’s mouth, dragging along the side of his neck, sucking at the most sensitive spots. Teasing out the reactions Adam knew he could elicit from Ronan.

The wall was hard against his back where Adam had him pressed into it. Adam’s hands teased at the skin just above the waistline of Ronan’s jeans. He couldn’t help but arch into the touch. _Two can play at that game._

Ronan moved his hands from where they’d been on Adam’s neck, and carded them through Adam’s hair. He pulled Adam’s hair lightly, and felt the resulting moan reverberate in his chest, his neck.

Adam gripped his hips firmly to pull him even closer. There was no space between them, not anymore.

Ronan gasped at the sensation of Adam rubbing up against him, and began desperately pulling up on the hem of Adam’s tee shirt.

Adam, getting the hint, lifts his arms so Ronan can pull off his shirt entirely. Now shirtless, Adam pushed Ronan back against the wall and continued where he left off, but it wasn’t enough. Ronan needed to feel Adam’s skin against his.

Reaching for the bottom of his own shirt now, Ronan pulled the cotton material, up, up, _slowly_. Adam’s eyes got darker and darker with want, until Adam finally took the shirt from Ronan and practically ripped it off of him. _Excellent. Just how I like him._

“Bed. Now.” Adam practically growled at him.

Ronan happily obliged. He let Adam push him into the mattress. Ronan tilted his head to the side to allow Adam to continue kissing his neck. When Adam’s hips pressed up against him from where they were between Ronan’s legs, Ronan pulled Adam even closer with his thighs.

Adam ground against him, and he couldn’t help but moan.

At the sound of Ronan’s moaning, Adam stopped kissing Ronan’s neck to smirk at Ronan. Fuck. Pulling away slightly, Adam began to lightly trace circles along Ronan’s torso.

And it lit him on fire.

The gentle touches were not what he wanted right now. And Adam knew that. Which is why Adam’s smirk only grew more pronounced as Ronan began to writhe helplessly under Adam’s fingertips.

Finally, _finally_ Adam’s mouth replaced his fingers. His lips ghosted over Ronan’s collarbones, down his chest. Down Adam went, kissing down Ronan’s stomach, nipping gently at the points of Ronan’s hipbones.

Unbuttoning Ronan’s jeans, Adam pulled them off, Ronan arching to help the effort along.

And then Ronan was naked. Adam’s mouth was back on his hips, moving inwards, and _oh_.

Warmth.

Warmth surrounding him, enveloping him.

Ronan felt, more than heard, himself moan. He was reduced to a being of pure sensation: the pillow cradling his head, the vibration of his throat and chest, the soft strands of Adam’s hair his fingers carded through, Adam, Adam, _Adam_.

Right before he fell over the edge to orgasm, Adam abruptly moved back.

Adam’s voice was rough. “Hands and knees.”

Ronan shivered at the low timbre of Adam’s voice, and immediately moved. This is what he had been waiting for all night. He heard the jingle that was Adam undoing his belt, the rustling of the fabric as Adam slid his pants down his legs.

Adam’s chest pressed up against his back, and _oh. Oh._

And then he lost all coherent thought. He was reduced to Adam’s mouth dragging along his tattoo, to the feeling of Adam inside him, to Adam surrounding him completely. He was a pair of hands feeling the threads of the sheet slither beneath fingers, trying to stay grounded.

Ronan began the litany, low and deep in his throat. _Fuck, Adam. God, Adam. Harder, Adam._

Adam could have been an angel sent to answer his prayers, or he could have been an angel sent to smite him. He was nearly inhuman in his beauty (his fierce and lovely face, his beautiful hands that knew exactly how to make him come undone).

Adam was a godling in his own right, and Ronan was a willing acolyte worshiping him with songs composed of moans and sighs, with prayers of swear words and breathy requests. Every sound Adam was able to elicit from Ronan became merely a part of the symphony that was the background track to this: to them, on this bed, together.

Ronan needed relief. He could feel the holy fire building beneath his skin. His hands itched to ease the pressure of being so close. He unclenched his fingers from where they had entangled with the sheets and reached down with one hand to where he ached to be touched.

Adam pressed deeper into him and seized Ronan’s wrist before he could do anything more than groan in the face of all this excess pleasure.

Grasping both of Ronan’s wrists in his hand, Adam held Ronan’s hands above his head. Ronan was pressed even further into the mattress. God, he loved this side of Adam.

“No touching yourself.” He nipped at Ronan’s shoulder blades. “That’s my job.”

Ronan felt a shiver pass down his spine. He couldn’t help but to moan and press back against Adam.

The space between them all but disappeared. Adam began to grind against him once more, closer than ever before. Puffs of warm air escaped Adam’s mouth with each thrust.

Ronan’s shoulders were aching from supporting the weight of his body. He hardly noticed though, because Adam was hitting, was hitting, oh god he was hitting _that spot_. Over and over again. Ronan was only able to draw half breaths because it just felt so good.

The anticipation was building low in his gut. Ronan’s thighs and calves were starting to twitch across the bed. His fingers curled into the sheets in preparation for when his release finally hit him. His lip found its way into his mouth as Ronan tried to muffle the sounds he was making.

A moment later Ronan was arching into the bed and keening as waves and waves of blinding white pleasure hit him.

Adam wasn’t far behind him. Warmth filled him. Ronan couldn’t see Adam’s face, couldn’t hear him making any noise, but from past experience, he knew that Adam’s face was contorted into a soundless gasp of pleasure. It was really a pity that he was missing the sight.

_Of course_ , he thought, as Adam pulled out, collapsed next to him, and began running his hands all over Ronan’s body idly, _there’s always time for that later._

Adam leaned in to kiss him, and Ronan met him halfway. He loved these kinds of kisses best. The ones that tasted of the satiated sleepiness of a post-sex cuddle. The ones so gentle that they were hardly there. The ones that weren’t trying to go anywhere but sleep.

_Later._

For now though, Ronan was happy right where he was.


End file.
